The Draughtsman’s Contract
Written and Directed by Peter Greenaway
Starring: Anthony Higgins, Janet Suzman, Neil Cunningham
Rated R
Runtime: 1 hours, 48 minutes
Now on DVD/Blu-ray from Kino Lorber and currently streaming on Kino Now, Kanopy, Metrograph, and other services

by Gary M. Kramer, Staff Writer

Synopsis of The Draughtsman’s Contract per Kino Lorber:

Newly remastered by the BFI National Archive, The Draughtsman's Contract is Peter Greenaway’s masterpiece. Set in a richly exaggerated 17th-century England, Greenaway’s sumptuous and sensuously charged brainteaser catapulted him to the forefront of international art cinema. Adorned with intricate wordplay, extravagant costumes and opulent photography, his first narrative feature weaves a labyrinthine mystery around the maxim “draw what you see, not what you know.” An aristocratic wife (Janet Suzman) commissions a young, cocksure draughtsman (Anthony Higgins) to sketch her husband’s property while he is away—in exchange for a fee, room and board, and one sexual favor for each of the twelve drawings. As the draughtsman becomes more entrenched in the devious schemings in this seemingly idyllic country home, curious details emerge in his drawings that may implicate a murder.

Bolstered by a majestic score by then-newcomer Michael Nyman and stunning cinematography by Curtis Clark that suggests Greenaway has the elements at his beck and call, The Draughtsman’s Contract is a luscious cinematic banquet for the eye, ear and mind.

This was the film that put Greenaway on my radar. It’s not my favorite of his, but it certainly shows how he would develop his artful style which I adore.

What features make it special?

Blu-ray Bonus Features include:

Peter Greenaway commentary and video introduction (10 minutes)
Four deleted scenes (10 minutes)
Behind-the-scenes footage and on-set interviews (10 minutes)
Interview with composer Michael Nyman (7 minutes)
Greenaway Short Films: Intervals (1969, 6 minutes), Windows (1974, 4 minutes), Dear Phone (1976, 17 minutes), Water Wrackets (1978, 11 minutes)
Re-release trailer

Why you need to add it to your video library:

Peter Greenaway’s breakout arthouse hit, The Draughtsman’s Contract (1982) is bold film—an intriguing murder mystery, a cheeky satire on English class, and a naughty sex romp—rendered in such a rigorous way that it requires steadfast attention. It almost demands repeat viewings. Greenaway is deliberately obfuscating, letting most of the murders and sex happen off-screen. The point of all the provocation is simply that nothing is quite what it appears to be.

The Draughtsman’s Contract opens with a series of still tableaus where the characters gossip and say bawdy things. The period costumes—it is 1694—are flawless and deliberately exaggerated. The driving score, by Michael Nyman (a frequent collaborator with the director), is as reflective of the baroque period. So too, are Greenaway’s impeccable visuals; every shot could hang in a museum. Viewers may gasp when the camera actually moves during some dining sequences as most of the film’s exquisitely composed images are static shots. (Greenaway studied painting and makes each frame canvas, sometimes on purpose.)

The plot slowly comes into focus. R Neville (Anthony Higgins) is a young, brash draughtman. He makes a contract with Virginia Herbert (Janet Suzman) to draw 12 sketches of the Herbert estate in 12 days while Mr. Herbert (Dave Hill) is away. In addition to payment, Virginia and Neville will have sexual relations for each sketch.

The film is an allegory, but it is also about the shifting balance of power between Neville and Virginia. Greenaway is showing how Neville may think he has the upper hand—especially when he discovers what may have been a murder—only to be unsure of what has occurred. Audiences may share his feelings of uncertainty as The Draughtsman’s Contract requires viewers to “notice small changes in the landscape.” One obvious example Is “The Statue” (Michael Feast), a naked man who poses around the estate—on a roof, against a wall, atop a horse, or even urinating from a pedestal while holding a torch—witnessing everything, but interacting with no one, save a young child.

As Neville goes about his assignment, he makes certain commands, from no activity between certain hours that would disrupt his work, to asking a model to wear the same clothes every day. He is seeking the same kind of entitlement Virginia and her peers have and feels a sense of superiority at having his work valued. But he quickly comes into conflict. When Virginia opts to void his contract, he claims both parties need to be in agreement, and since he wants to continue working, so he shall. That may be the beginning of the end.

Things get more interesting when a body is discovered in the moat. There is a possible conspiracy that Thomas Noyes (Neil Cunningham) was the murderer, but Noyes is determined to prove his innocence. Do Neville’s drawings provide clues about what took place? And will the characters resort to blackmail to keep reputations unsullied?

There is considerable talk about humiliation and much ridicule. Some witty bon mots: “The French do not treat their horses kindly. They eat them.” One character is said to have “nothing of substance in his britches.” And Mrs. Herbert may get the biggest laugh when she explains why her husband won’t clean out the moat, “He doesn’t like to see the fish. Carp live too long—they remind him of Catholics.”

The Draughtsman’s Contract exhibits many of the formalist elements that Greenaway would feature in his subsequent films, such as A Zed & Two Naughts (1985) which was also just released on DVD in a 2-film set with his 1980 pseudo-documentary, The Falls. It provides a good place to start to develop an appreciation for this distinctive, idiosyncratic filmmaker whose singular brand of cinema is guaranteed to make viewers look twice at what they think they saw.

The Draughtsman’s Contract is now available on Blu-ray here.